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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29595969">Of Memories</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurathian/pseuds/aurathian'>aurathian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Aftermath [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, Longshot - Freeform, NSFW, Oneshot, Post-Canon, implied nsfw, implied sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:42:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29595969</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurathian/pseuds/aurathian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Link and Zelda are reunited, but Link tells a lie he can’t go back on.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Aftermath [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090955</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do you really remember me?”</p><p>When she asked him that question, he stood in silence, like he’d always done as her personal knight—or so he supposed.</p><p>The Princess of Hyrule, dirty and beaten but glowing in the sunlight, stood before him clearer than ever and he didn’t know what to say. Yes, he did remember her vaguely, but he couldn’t recall much about the time they spent together no matter how many nights he spent crying next to his campfires.</p><p>Her hair was the color of the wheat fields in Hateno and her eyes were the emerald green of the Faron palms, her skin pale and her smile wide. He saw her so clearly.</p><p>And yet, in his memories, she was nothing but a sun-kissed blur.</p><p>“Yes,” he lied.</p><p>The princess who was ever so slightly taller than him embraced her hero in her arms, and he awkwardly wrapped his around her.</p><p>“I missed you,” she spoke into his ear.</p><p>——</p><p>Link helped Zelda to the nearest stable where they’d rest that night, and he was sorry that he didn’t have clothes for her to change into. The bottom of her prayer dress, once a pure and pristine white, was caked in dirt and torn in places. He felt guilty making the princess wear it.</p><p>“Do you remember my favorite food?” she asked as Link stood over the cooking pot outside. The sun was setting, casting its rich citrine glow on the legendary pair, and the sound of insects buzzed in the humid air.</p><p>“Fruitcake,” he said after a moment, recalling vividly the time he went searching for royal recipes. It frustrated him how he could remember doing something so arbitrary but could not remember the woman he would have, at one point, laid his life down for.</p><p>“Yessss,” Zelda hummed and closed her eyes at the idea. “But that might be a little too unhealthy for me right now.”</p><p>“Do you… do you like other things?” Link asked. He tripped over his words because he didn’t want to speak to someone he didn’t know, but he felt guilty because he <em> did </em>know her.</p><p>“Hmm… buttered apples.”</p><p>“I like them too.”</p><p>Link snagged an apple off a nearby crate and pulled butter out of one of his many pockets and when Zelda asked why he had butter in his pocket, he was unable to provide an answer. He tossed them into the cooking pot and lit the flame beneath it. He took his seat in the ground next to where Zelda sat on a stool.</p><p>The fire crackled, and she asked, “Why doesn’t anything feel different?”</p><p>He wanted to tell her that it was because everything was, because everything had changed and they’d never go back to whatever they were before the Calamity—not that he could remember, anyway.</p><p>Instead, he stayed silent and scooped the buttered apple up from the cooking pot. It was scorching hot in his hands, but he didn’t care. He gently blew on the ruby red fruit before handing it off to Zelda. When she took it, she placed her hand over his and smiled.</p><p>He lost his breath.</p><p>She was weak and dirty and tired and he wondered how she could look so radiant in the midst of such problems. How did he ever forget such beauty?</p><p>He sat silently while the princess peacefully ate her apple, and he figured that must’ve been the first moment of peace she’d gotten in one hundred years.</p><p>One hundred years…</p><p>In the grand scheme of things, he knew it was but a blink in history, a brief and insignificant period, so he wondered why it felt a lifetime away. He wondered why all it took was one hundred measly, meaningless years to wipe him of everything he had.</p><p>They sat outside by the gentle blaze until the moon had risen and Zelda began to doze off. He carefully hauled her onto his back, her head limp against his shoulder as she lightly snored, and he carried her into the stable and tucked her into a bed. He bought two beds and climbed into one, and he decided it was okay for him to be selfish and sleep a full night.</p><p>——</p><p>“Link.”</p><p>“Link, wake up.”</p><p>His eyes shot open. He wondered if he was being told to awaken from another hundred-year slumber, but instead he was greeted by Zelda’s face uncomfortably close to his own, colored dark blue in the night, and she was pleading in a whisper.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice hoarse from sleep.</p><p>“Can I… sleep with you?” She wiped furiously at her eyes and cheeks as she sniffled. “Please?”</p><p>“Uh—um—yes, I… yeah.” He held his covers up, inviting her in, and he scooted to the opposite edge to allow her room.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“It’s okay.” </p><p>Suddenly, she was clinging to his arm and pressing her back against his chest.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she said again, but this time her voice cracked with tears and she was shaking. “I never meant for this to happen. It’s all my fault.”</p><p>He softly shushed her and laid a nervous hand on top of hers in an effort to be comforting. “It’s not.”</p><p>“The nightmares… they… they’re too much.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>On his journey, Link slept many a night in the wilderness, lost and cold, and he suffered from nightmare upon nightmare, but they often left him more confused than traumatized. He was having nightmares about things he himself couldn’t remember, but were so ingrained in him that he could still conjure them in his sleep.</p><p>He pitied Zelda because she remembered everything.</p><p>Suddenly, she was giggling through her tears.</p><p>“What?” Link asked.</p><p>“Nothing,” she croaked, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “It’s just… one hundred years ago, we would’ve never laid together like this. Don’t you remember how stiff we were with each other?”</p><p>He didn’t.</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>They laid there for an hour while the princess whispered stories of their past to him while he sleepily nodded and hummed in reply, pretending like he was reminiscing with her when in reality his mind was desperate to find any speck of a memory of what she was talking about.</p><p>“Do you remember when…”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Do you remember how…”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Do you remember…”</p><p>No.</p><p>When she’d finally lulled herself to sleep with stories, he sat awake for a long while, thinking about how he knew nothing. He didn’t remember any of the memories she shared with him and he hardly remembered anyone she mentioned. It nagged at him in the back of his mind that one day, he would have to tell her the truth.</p><p>It could wait, he thought, and fell asleep.</p><p>——</p><p>It was raining. Hard.</p><p>And she was <em> dancing </em>in it.</p><p>She was twirling and hopping and running in the rain, laughing and smiling and she looked divine when she was drenched, but he looked away when she caught him staring.</p><p>“Come join me!” she called to him, but he only lowered his gaze to the muddy ground and crossed his arms. She huffed and marched over, taking a firm hold of his arm and dragging him out in front of the stable into the pouring rain.</p><p>He stood awkwardly still while she frolicked and after a minute she stopped to look at him. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>“Nothing,” he answered.</p><p>“Doesn’t it feel so good?” she asked, and her voice was foggy and muffled through the harsh weather. It sounded like one of his memories, where everything was a little blurry and nothing quite made sense, except this time it was real and he was real and so was she and he <em> knew </em> her.</p><p>“It’s a little chilly.”</p><p>“I suppose it’s different for you,” she mused. “I haven’t felt rain in one hundred years.”</p><p>One hundred damn years. In spite of his indifference and confusion to her, a rage still pooled inside him, mad at the beast that had stolen away one hundred years of her life, mad at the beast he had defeated but wanted to kill again, mad at the beast that had taken everything from him.</p><p>She twirled and hummed thoughtfully. “You are much more talkative than before,” she observed. “Not by much, though.”</p><p>“People change,” Link said.</p><p>“I suppose they do,” she agreed, “but I know why you changed.”</p><p>And he knew, too.</p><p>Without warning, she grabbed his hands and spun him around with her laughing, and before he knew it he was chuckling too. They spun and spun until Zelda’s foot slipped on the mud and they fell, her on top of him, a giggly mess.</p><p>She stopped and stared, opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He didn’t know it, but he was smiling, and—</p><p>She lightly kissed his nose.</p><p>He blinked once, then twice, and then chuckled.</p><p>“You never smiled,” she said.</p><p>“And you were… uh, never this bold,” he offered, hoping his assumption was true. She pulled herself off of her hero and stood, offering her hand. He took it and rose to stand beside her.</p><p>“People change,” she mimicked.</p><p>He rolled his eyes and sighed, his eyes traveling up the path in front of the stable to the sky. “We should leave,” he said. “Before it rains harder.”</p><p>“You were always very serious. Always focused on the goal at hand.” She walked under the awning of the stable and slipped on her sandals. “It was rare for you to pause and just… think. I suppose not everyone changes.”</p><p>He scratched his head, unsure how to respond. “You weren’t any different,” he finally said.</p><p>She stopped in the middle of lacing up a sandal and her shoulders dropped. “How do you know me so well?” she asked with a little smirk, but behind the facade of playfulness was guilt. She exhaled, then inquired, “Is it even safe to travel in the rain?”</p><p>She didn’t want to admit it, but she’d forgotten many things, too—the taste of certain foods and the feeling of the air and what it was like to be hot or cold. She forgot how it felt to see people, talk to them, to be loved and to love. In her bubble of malice, there was only nothing.</p><p>“It’s fine,” he replied shortly. “You can wear my hood and we should get to Hateno by night.”</p><p>“You’re going to get positively soaked, though,” she argued. “You should wear your hood. I’m fine without.”</p><p>“I don’t need it.”</p><p>“Yes you do. You could fall ill.”</p><p>“I won’t.”</p><p>“It’s dangerous.”</p><p>“Princess,” he said firmly, his voice loud and clear over the rain. Her mouth dropped and a fist settled over her heart. “Please just wear the hood.”</p><p>“I’m not… fine. I’ll wear it.” Under her breath, she muttered the title over and over again. Some princess she was, letting her kingdom succumb to ruin and decay.</p><p>“Thank you,” Link sighed, his tone lighter and less angry. “I’ll get our horse.”</p><p>“Of course.” She watched him walk away to the stable counter and she wondered to herself if she was still really Hyrule’s Princess.</p><p>——</p><p>Her hands were clasped around his waist as the pair rode through Ash Swamp, her hero expertly directing the horse through puddles and around decayed Guardians. Her heart twisted and sped more than once in that fateful place, but Link seemed unfazed and she wondered why.</p><p>He died there, so why was he not more afraid of it?</p><p>She tightened her grip on him and buried her face into his back, and one of his hands came to gingerly rest atop hers.</p><p>Seeing the Guardians, broken and rusty and dead, made her angry not because they killed her beloved and her kingdom, but because she was too foolish to foresee them turning sides. In her bubble of malice, for one hundred years, she mulled over what could have been done differently. She couldn’t understand how they didn’t predict something so simple, and it was because of their lack of preparation that she saw her years of research and millenniums of technology gone to waste, lost to nothing but a demonic boar.</p><p>Link, on the other hand, saw them as nothing but enemies. They were treacherous robots roaming the land of Hyrule, seeking their next target to kill as they were programmed to and then going back to aimlessly scuttering around. There was a memory somewhere in his mind, he knew, where Princess Zelda admired one from afar as a Sheikah tested its functions, but it was too fuzzy for him to comprehend.</p><p>“Are you alright?” he asked after they exited the swamp and trotted through Fort Hateno.</p><p>She propped her chin on his shoulder. “Doesn’t it hurt?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Traveling. Adventuring through all these places you know but not really, because a part of you has forgotten them but a part of you remembers and you don’t know how to perceive your new observations in combination with your old ones.”</p><p>He scoffed in awe of how well she could read him, but it scared him as well. It was only a matter of time before her mind figured out that he was lying to her.</p><p>“It does,” he answered.</p><p>“I know you don’t remember everything,” she muttered. “But… you do remember me, yes?”</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>She said nothing and only hummed. Zelda rested her cheek against his back and took a deep breath, overwhelming her senses with pine and rain and grass and forest, things she hardly remembered.</p><p>She was lucky that the rain masked her tears.</p><p>——</p><p>That night when they arrived in Hateno Village, Link had to hoist his princess off the saddle of the horse and carry her inside. He nudged the door open with his foot and shuffled in, kicking it closed behind him. Readjusting her sleeping form in his arms, he climbed the stairs to the loft effortlessly and gently set her down on the bed. He pulled the thin covers over her and knelt beside her.</p><p>He stared.</p><p>She was so beautiful, he thought, as he brushed a stray golden strand behind her ear. Her lips were a soft pink, her eyelashes dark and thick, and her cheeks were rosy, even in the cool moonlight. It spilled through the window and illuminated her in a different way than the sun had just a few days before. Princess Zelda was so serene and ethereal and he didn’t know what to do.</p><p>Her eyes fluttered open and she smirked when she saw his face. “What are you doing, Link?” she asked coyly, notes of sleepiness in her voice. He chuckled and scratched the back of his head.</p><p>“Nothing. Going to bed.”</p><p>He went to stand, but she tugged on the sleeve of his shirt. “No,” she whispered. “With me.” He looked down at her hand and then back at her face as she rolled over with a yawn.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>He climbed in beside her and she grabbed his hands, directing them to wrap around her waist. Her free hand then travelled up to bury itself in his dirty brown locks and she sunk into him.</p><p>“Goodnight,” she murmured.</p><p>“Uh… goodnight.”</p><p>It felt wrong to sleep in such an intimate position with someone he didn’t know.</p><p>——</p><p>He rose first in the morning, just before the sun, and he carefully slithered out of her light hold so as to not wake her. He stared at her for a moment, and then he looked away. Everything felt wrong, every word he said to her and every glance he gave, it was all wrong. Why did he look at someone he barely knew with such affection?</p><p>He stretched and padded down the stairs to the modest kitchen where he silently cracked some eggs in a bowl and began to prep a meal. He did everything quietly because he knew she desperately needed sleep. He wanted so badly to stand over her form and just watch the subtle rise and fall of her chest and the way her eyes sometimes twitched in her sleep, because she was the peace he was constantly searching for.</p><p>He set down his plate of scrambled eggs on the table and devoured it in no time. The plate he made for her sat on the counter, the scent wafting up to the loft. It was only a matter of minutes before the sleepy princess trudged down the stairs as she rubbed her eyes and yawned. When she saw him, she smiled, and his heart skipped a beat.</p><p>“It’s still dark,” he said.</p><p>“I know. But I was cold.” <em> Because you got out of bed. </em></p><p>“Oh. Well.” He gestured to the plate on the counter and she gratefully swooped it into her hands. She set her plate down across from him and she ate slowly, savoring each delicious bite of egg.</p><p>“I almost forgot how this tasted,” she commented. He, in response, smiled painfully. Her grin dropped and she set the fork down on the plate with a gentle <em> clink </em>. “Can I ask you something?”</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>“What’s it like to forget?”</p><p>He blinked. Oh no. She knew. She’d figured it out, and he was done for, and she’d hate him forever and ever until the end of time—</p><p>“I feel like, in a way, I’ve also lost my memories.”</p><p>He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.</p><p>“Why?” he breathed. </p><p>“I don’t remember what some things smell or taste like. I barely remember the faces of people I once knew, like Mipha or Urbosa, and my childhood…” she trailed off, gulped. “Memories I once held dear are nothing but blurs.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“But you… I could never forget you,” she declared, and her voice carried such an affectionate tone that his breath caught in his throat.</p><p>He tapped his fork against his empty plate nervously. Through the window in the loft, the first rays of sunshine began to peek through. It made her glow as usual.</p><p>“To forget… it feels like nothing, because you don’t know you’ve forgotten.”</p><p>“But when you do?”</p><p>“It’s confusing.”</p><p>“I see,” she hummed. “Like trying to put together a puzzle without having all the pieces.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Whatever that meant. He still didn’t understand that he’d been trying to piece a puzzle together this whole time.</p><p>They talked for another hour (well, it was mostly her) before Link stood from the table and headed to the loft. Curiously, she followed behind him and leaned on the banister at the top of the stairs while he stood in front of the bookcase along the wall. With a bright blue band in his mouth, his hands gathered his hair up. He pulled the band out and tilted his head at her.</p><p>“Come look at this,” he said as he quickly tied his hair.</p><p>“Y’know,” she sighed, “I never saw you with your hair down.” She walked in front of him and lightly brushed the hair on his forehead to the side. “I think I like it better that way.”</p><p>He gently laid a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face the framed photo on the wall, partially to show her what he had originally brought her up to the loft for and partially so she couldn’t see the growing blush on his face. Her heart stopped and her hand found its way to her mouth, which hung agape. </p><p>“Oh, Link,” she breathed, and she reached out to brush against the picture with her fingertips. “Can I—can I hold it?”</p><p>He reached past her and took it off its hook on the wall. He placed it delicately in her hands and her eyes welled with tears.</p><p>It wasn’t the first time she’d cried before him, and they both knew it wouldn’t be the last, but he was still caught off guard each time. Instead of comforting her, he simply gazed down at the picture with her.</p><p>The Champions with their princess, surprised and smiling, tossed together in a moment they could never have again. She held it to her chest and weeped.</p><p>——</p><p>“I need to go into town today,” he told her after she’d come back downstairs with bloodshot eyes and dry cheeks. “You can come if you want.”</p><p>Zelda sniffled, scratched her nose. “Okay, I will.” She dragged herself back up the stairs to find something to change into and settled on a pair of his pants and a tattered tunic, which were both a little small on her. She threw her dirty prayer dress in the corner of the room before she went back down to the main room and found Link standing in the doorway, holding the door with his foot as he waited for her. He had on him no weapons or shield and in his hand was a small drawstring pouch.</p><p>“Ready?” he asked, and she nodded.</p><p>He felt light and empty. He was unaccustomed to the weightless freedom that bearing no weapons brought, as he always had some on his back even when he was in the safety of a village. He pondered over the fact that it might be unwise to carry none with him now that the Princess of Hyrule walked at his side like a lost child.</p><p>“Do you remember living here?” she asked as they crossed a small bridge.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“I don’t know the details,” she said, “but when they first told me about you, they said that you lived in Hateno with your mother while your father served as a knight.”</p><p>“I see.”</p><p>“They told me to be nice,” she chuckled. “It was going to be your first time meeting me and only your second time in the castle.”</p><p>He forced a laugh. He didn’t remember at all.</p><p>“I’ve never heard you laugh.” Her voice was colored with surprise. “You should do it more.” Awkwardly, he scratched the nape of his neck and his face reddened but she was, thankfully, too enthralled by the scenery of Hateno to notice. He pulled her along to Ventest Clothing Boutique, where the nervous shop manager greeted them too quietly to hear.</p><p>He gestured at the outfits on display. “Pick something,” he told her.</p><p>“Really? I can’t take your money.”</p><p>“Please.”</p><p>He watched her wander around the store, her hands brushing against the fabrics and eyes scanning the room. She paused in front of a white dress before frowning and moving on. He grew impatient as she went by dress after dress, finding seemingly nothing until she laid eyes on a light blue one. Its sleeves were short and the dress stopped at the knees, but she gazed at it like it was perfect. She turned to him with a smile.</p><p>“This one.”</p><p>Link turned to Sophie, the shop manager who refused to make eye contact, and handed her a fistful of rupees. Zelda took the dress off the hanger and folded it over her arm, thanking the timid woman before walking after Link out of the boutique.</p><p>“Do you want to go change?” he asked her. She shook her head.</p><p>“I want to walk around more.”</p><p>Soon, Link found himself doing very little walking and more sitting while Zelda played with the village children. Even in his blurriest of memories, he’d never seen her so happy. He figured that if he could spend the rest of his life just like this, he wouldn’t mind at all.</p><p>Yet, all good things must come to an end, and when Zelda grew tired she said goodbye to the children and asked Link if they could head home. Of course he said yes, but he wanted to just sit and watch her forever in that moment, where she was smiling and laughing and she didn’t have a worry in the world.</p><p>The first thing she did when they returned to the hero’s house was change into her new dress. It fit her perfectly and it flared when she spun. The blue almost matched that of his tunic. </p><p>“We’re matching,” she joked, and he smiled. “I’m tired. Maybe it’s time to turn in?”</p><p>He looked out the window. “It’s noon.”</p><p>They spent many lazy days together like that, sitting on the grass outside, cooking meals, playing with the village children and during that time Link picked up blacksmithing. He’d discovered that the small attachment to his house was full of different tools and an anvil. He took it upon himself to learn the craft. He created tools for the townspeople and traded them in exchange for more materials and, on occasion, dresses for his princess.</p><p>In that time, he’d forgotten that he’d forgotten her.</p><p>——</p><p>One day, while he was toiling away in his worksop, Zelda poked her head in.</p><p>“Uh, hi,” he said. “You can come in.” Absentmindedly he dragged a stool out from the wall and patted it. She slipped through the door and sat down, watching as he sharpened an axe.</p><p>“Is this how we were meant to live?” she asked, and he froze. Such a heavy question, completely out of the blue. He blinked once and then looked at her. She twirled her thumbs and looked down at the floor beneath her sandals. “Doing nothing.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“We’ve spent the past week here in this village doing nothing but… nothing.”</p><p>“But we’re not doing nothing. You help the villagers all the time. I’ve started making tools.”</p><p>“Link,” she said sternly, “I am Princess Zelda of Hyrule. I am doing nothing. We have spent our days here in pure bliss while my kingdom lies in wait. Aren’t I supposed to be out there reclaiming it? Rebuilding and restoring it to its former glory? Shaping it back into what I remember?” Her eyes were as hard as steel as she stared into his, and behind the strength he saw fear. “I am not fulfilling my duty, just like last time.”</p><p>He set his sharpener down on the table and laid the axe against it before running a hand through his hair and sighing. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what.</p><p>“We are destined for greater things,” she continued, “and here we are not fulfilling our obligations to the Goddesses. Does it not feel wrong to you to be lazing about in this village?”</p><p>“It doesn’t,” he answered honestly. “I think you need rest.”</p><p>“I do not,” she argued. “I need to get my kingdom back—”</p><p>He pursed his lips and glared at her. “Why are you talking about this so suddenly?”</p><p>“Because I feel guilty.” She stood up and moved the stool back against the wall. “I feel guilty because I let everyone die and now I’m not doing anything to restore Hyrule. I’m seemingly stuck in a cycle of never-ending shortcomings and failures, Link.”</p><p>“But we won.”</p><p>“Only after you single-handedly saved Hyrule.”</p><p>He stood up from his chair to meet her and the axe clattered when it hit the floor. “I didn't do it ‘single-handedly.’ You kept the Calamity away for one hundred years. Give yourself some credit, Princess.”</p><p>“Princess,” she spit. “Why call me a Princess when I can’t fulfill the duties that come with such a role?”</p><p>“But you can, and you have.”</p><p>“When, Link? Do you remember a single time I succeeded?”</p><p>He gulped and his heart seemed to lodge itself in his throat. He was remembering how he forgot her, and how he forgot all the things they did together one hundred years ago and when the question mattered most, he couldn’t recall anything. All he could do was stutter and trip over his words as he stared at his calloused hands, hoping for any coherent words that wanted to come out of his mouth, but there was nothing.</p><p>“I thought so,” Zelda whispered.</p><p>“It’s not that—it’s—I—”</p><p>“Clearly you don’t have anything to say,” she snipped and crossed her arms.</p><p>He held his head in his hands. “Princess, you are very lucky that you have memories.” She tilted her head in confusion. “I’ve realized how precious they are.” Link only heard the soft <em> tap </em> of her sandals against the dirty ground and the harsh slam of the door when she left after a silent moment, a moment spent wondering if he’d given away his lie.</p><p>As she stood outside, his words stuck with her. She had all these memories of people she cherished and even though it seemed like that was in another life, she still remembered. Why did she bear them so selfishly like burdens while he had so little compared to her? She needed something, anything, to ground herself back in her memories, so she searched.</p><p>——</p><p>He was surprised when he found her washing her prayer dress in the pond downhill from their house. She stood when he approached, letting the white garment float in the sapphire water. The air between them was heavy with tension from their earlier argument.</p><p>“I thought you hated it,” he said.</p><p>She shook her head, her eyes colored with sadness as she gazed upon her holy dress. “It’s a reminder,” she murmured, and then looked him in his eyes. “I don’t want to ever forget.”</p><p>His chest burned with guilt.</p><p>——</p><p>The next day he woke up to an empty bed. When he’d reached out his hand to find her hair, he felt nothing but blankets and pillows. He shot upright, sweat dotting his forehead, and he wondered where in the Goddessdamned country she could be. Panic rose from deep within, his mind running through every possible scenario. Perhaps she’d been kidnapped by the Yiga Clan, or she went wandering in the woods and was attacked by a band of bokoblins. He stumbled out of bed and ran to the window, hurriedly scanning the field next to his house. Nothing.</p><p>She was never up earlier than him. In fact, he usually had to give her a gentle shake to wake her, and even then she would just groan and roll back over in bed.</p><p>He practically jumped into a pair of pants and didn’t even bother with a shirt before he rushed outside and into Hateno Village. He asked everyone he knew, every shop owner in town, if they knew the girl with long blonde hair and where she could’ve gone. Each time they shrugged and apologized, some thought he was crazy, and others (mostly the children) looked at him with fear in their eyes. Defeated, he made his way back home.</p><p>He opened the door to his workshop and stared in horror. Locks of blonde hair covered the ground and there she was, hunched over the table and squinting into a mirror. His mouth hung open in shock.</p><p>“Princess,” he said, and he was speechless. She turned to face him, eyebrows raised in surprise. She awkwardly chuckled and set down the knife she’d been gripping so hard that her knuckles were white.</p><p>“Hi.” She fluffed her hair, now just above her shoulders. “What do you think?”</p><p>His eyes travelled between her and the tufts of sunshine on the floor. She frowned.</p><p>“Do you not like it?” she asked.</p><p>“I do,” he said, and then more bashfully, “a lot.”</p><p>She grinned and walked up to him, snaking her arms around his waist. She buried her face into his shoulder and giggled. “I’m glad, because I do too.” She pulled away and sighed happily. “I just needed a change.”</p><p>His lips quirked into a smile to mirror her own. He liked her—a new Zelda, one he could finally make memories with. “So suddenly?” he asked.</p><p>“When we talked the other day… it made me think about what I really want.” She brushed a strand of his hair out of his eyes. “And I realized that I don’t know.”</p><p>“You don’t need to know.”</p><p>She hummed, smiled. Sighed. “I do know one thing,” she said. </p><p>“What?” he asked.</p><p>“I love you.” She pecked him on the lips.</p><p>It wasn’t anything new. They’d both felt it, Zelda since the moment he saved her from the Yiga Clan one hundred years ago and Link as he got to know her during the days they spent in Hateno. They would hug, cuddle, lay together, but neither had the courage to say anything until now.</p><p>“I’m satisfied here,” she said. “I’m fine with who I am.”</p><p>“That’s good,” he breathed.</p><p>She pulled away and looked at the ground. “We still need to restore Hyrule. We have to.” She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “But it needs to start with us, and I don’t think we’re ready yet.”</p><p>“Perhaps one day.” He didn’t want to. He didn’t want her to go back to being a princess, because from what he saw in the few memories he had, she was never happy. As he got to know her, he knew she was a different Zelda than one hundred years ago. This Zelda was happier, and this Zelda loved playing with the village children and this Zelda took long naps in the hot sun and this Zelda was free from the shackles of duty.</p><p>He wanted to live with her in a simple setting, free of memories and duty and birthrights.</p><p>Silence lingered between the two of them.</p><p>Then, “Will you help me clean up?” She gestured to the hair covering the floor, and Link quickly nodded and grabbed a broom.</p><p>——</p><p>Later that night, after Zelda came home from helping the innkeeper with some cleaning and Link had wrapped up his work for the night, they sat together at the table and picked at their dinners, simple rice dishes Link made at the last minute. Zelda marveled at his cooking skills, something he lacked one hundred years ago when all he ate were rocks and frogs.</p><p>“I don’t think I’m hungry,” she said, setting her fork down. “I’m really tired.”</p><p>“Was the inn dirty?” Link asked.</p><p>“Yes, and busy, too. It was mess after mess.”</p><p>Link swallowed his bite and set his fork on his plate. “I’m not that hungry either.”</p><p>Zelda laughed. “You are such a liar. You’re always hungry.”</p><p>“I’m being honest this time.” He stood from the table and extended his hand out to her. “Do you wanna crawl in bed?”</p><p>She took his hand and rose with a nod. He gripped her hand all the way up to the loft, where they paused for a brief moment to stare at the photo on the wall. </p><p>She was shocked when he turned around and kissed her square on the lips—a real kiss, not just a shy peck. Slowly, he led her to the bed and laid down, pulling her beside him. Gently, his hand cupped the back of her hand and she leaned into the kiss more. His hands reached lower, lower, lower, and hers went up to the neckline of his shirt.</p><p>Next thing she knew, she was pulling his clothes off, the air in the room hot and heavy as they exchanged sloppy kisses and his body was slick with sweat and she was panting, and he got on top of her and said,</p><p>“I don’t know you.”</p><p>He didn’t mean to say it, he didn’t mean for the words to come tumbling past his lips in a desperate frenzy—a frenzy for what, he didn’t know. Her hands smacked against his chest and she pushed, causing him to tumble backward.</p><p>“What?” she huffed. “What do you mean?” She sat up and pulled the blanket up to her chin.</p><p>“I don’t know you.” The lie, bottled up, had blown open from the pressure.</p><p>“You don’t know me?” Her stare was angry and for a moment he almost cowered like a puppy. “What in Hylia’s name does that mean?”</p><p>He blinked once, and then twice.</p><p>“Say something!” she yelled.</p><p>“It means I don’t remember you,” he finally said. “I don’t remember anything.”</p><p>“What?” Her voice cracked, and he winced. “You’ve been lying to me? You don’t remember meeting me… you don’t remember who you are… you don’t remember all the things I told you about? All the stories?”</p><p>He shook his head, then said, “But you’ve helped me understand by telling me the stories.”</p><p>“You don’t remember a single thing,” she stated to herself. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time.”</p><p>“I lost my memories.”</p><p>“I thought you regained some. You told me you remembered! Every time I asked, you would say yes and let me ramble as though you knew.”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>“You don’t even remember me?”</p><p>More silence.</p><p>“I’m going to stay at the inn tonight.”</p><p>He didn’t say anything as she got out of bed and left the house in her nightgown.</p><p>He stared at the rumpled sheets and wished he could forget this, too.</p><p>——</p><p>He woke to an empty bed again. That time, his hand hadn’t gone feeling for her. He got out of bed and walked over to the dresser below the photo on the wall and rummaged through it.</p><p>He found her prayer dress, which had been stuffed in a drawer after the day she washed it, and he held it close to him.</p><p>Tears.</p><p>Why couldn’t he remember? He tried so hard, all those nights spent alone in the fields of Hyrule, he tried and tried until his head hurt and he would pass out from the pain. Why was he condemned to forgetting? He wanted to remember. He had said it himself: memories are precious. So, why did the Goddesses choose him? He wanted the memories, no matter how painful, because it meant he could then remember his princess.</p><p>He knew something was missing the moment he woke up and didn’t know who he was. He received guidance from the dead king and the old Impa, but it still amounted to nothing because he couldn’t remember. When he rescued his princess, she asked if he remembered her.</p><p>And he said yes, Goddesses be damned, he lied to his princess and said yes. He told her he knew her favorite food, he said yes, of course he remembered the time she tried to make him eat a frog and yes, he remembered dying in her arms. </p><p>He lied because he wanted to remember. Part of him wanted to be trapped in the illusion that he remembered everything from one hundred years ago, from what seemed like a past life, because he was empty and he knew that void could only be filled with memories.</p><p>He spent countless days wandering from town to town and he saw that they had families, friends, things he didn’t have. He couldn’t recall his family and he barely recalled his fellow Champions, the image of which hung on the wall right in front of him and even when they were so clearly there they still seemed like a faraway blur.</p><p>Every time he looked at the photo, his eyes travelled to himself. He was there at that moment, so why couldn’t he remember?</p><p>
  <em> Creak. </em>
</p><p>At the sound of the door opening, he shoved the dress back into the drawer and spun to look over the loft railing, but not before wiping his eyes.</p><p>He watched as Zelda floated inside and walked across the room to stare at the weapons hanging on the wall. When he was given the Champions’ weapons, he chose to honor them by hanging them in his house instead of wearing them in battle. Zelda seemed to gravitate to Urbosa’s scimitar, and her fingers brushed over the shining gold.</p><p>She looked up at him and their eyes locked. </p><p>“Do you remember her?” she asked.</p><p>“Y—”</p><p>“Don’t lie,” she interrupted with a frown. “I know you don’t.” She turned her gaze back to the scimitar. “Can I tell you about her?”</p><p>“You’re not mad?”</p><p>“I am.” Her hand fell to her side. “But you said that my stories helped.”</p><p>He walked down the stairs to stand by her side in front of the weapons of his dead friends.</p><p>“They live on in my memories,” she told him, walking to Mipha’s trident, “so they’re not really gone.”</p><p>“I see.”</p><p>“Memories keep people alive. If I pass them to you, and you pass them to someone else, and so on, they never die.”</p><p>“Why would you want to tell me?” he asked. “I lied to you.”</p><p>“I know you did, and I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.” She turned to look at him. “But I want to keep my friends alive.” She pulled a chair out from the table and gestured to the seat across from her. </p><p>He sat down and looked at the table instead of her. He couldn’t possibly meet her eyes, not after the lies he told.</p><p>So she told him stories.</p><p>——</p><p>“I’m not quite sure where to start. Who do you want to know about?”</p><p>“Daruk. I remember he called me ‘little guy.’”</p><p>“He did. Daruk was a great Goron warrior and the chief of Goron Village. He was so beloved that they carved him into a rock over the village. Even though he was intimidating, he was friendly. In fact, one of his biggest fears is dogs. I was walking with him in the area outside Goron Village when we saw something getting attacked by bokoblins. He bravely blasted them off into oblivion with his club, and it turned out to be a dog that was getting hunted. I’d never seen Daruk cower before, so it was quite amusing, especially when he asked me if Calamity Ganon was a dog. Yet, in the face of the real Calamity, he faced it head-on.</p><p>“Then there was Revali, who was quite the opposite. Stubborn, rude, egotistical, the list goes on. Not a very kind fellow, but he cared for his Rito brothers and sisters deeply. He was the first to master the updraft technique and a fearsome warrior. He had something against you, I think, because you were <em> the </em> chosen one and he wasn’t. It was almost silly how often he would try to one-up you.</p><p>“I’m sure you remember Mipha.”</p><p>“More than the rest, yes. She crafted the Zora armor specifically for me.”</p><p>“It was because she loved you.</p><p>“She was shy, but her spearmanship was unmatched. The people of Zora’s Domain loved her. I was visiting her one day to ask if she would take the position of Champion. She was in the middle of a swimming session with her younger brother Sidon who had the brightest smile I’d ever seen. She took him up the waterfall with her and then had him try by himself. She told him that if fate ever parted them, it was up to him to take care of their home.”</p><p>“Then there was Urbosa. She was like my second mother. After mine passed, which I’m almost certain you have no recollection of, Urbosa was always there for me. I could go to her about anything. She called me ‘little bird.’</p><p>“I miss her.</p><p>“I’d snuck to Gerudo Town by myself once in order to get away from you. I ended up on Vah Naboris with Urbosa, where I spoke to her about my troubles until I fell asleep. Suddenly, there was a loud crash. Urbosa had woken me up with her lighting and I was very mad to find you there, for some reason. But she loved me. She only wanted the best. Now she’s gone.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because I don’t remember.”</p><p>“Link,” Zelda said, standing from the table, “I think the only memories you will have are going to be the ones you make now.” She made her way to the door where she gave him a sad smile before she left.</p><p>He didn’t see her for the rest of the day.</p><p>——</p><p>The next time he found her, she was foraging for mushrooms in the woods just outside the village.</p><p>“It’s dangerous,” he said.</p><p>“I can take care of myself,” she told him confidently, and a smile that had become rare graced her lips. “I’m strong.”</p><p>He grinned back. “I know.” He scratched the back of his head. “Are you still…?”</p><p>“Mad at you? Not as much.”</p><p>He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.</p><p>“So why are you out here?”</p><p>“Oh, you know those sisters that are always in these woods? They asked me to help them. I’m not sure where they went, though…”</p><p>Link figured they’d probably been knocked out by bokoblins again.</p><p>“Can you tell me more?”</p><p>“More memories?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Zelda leaned against a tree and hummed. “I’m a bit busy.”</p><p>“You can talk and find mushrooms.”</p><p>“I suppose.”</p><p>“Okay, tell me about us.” Link sat in front of a tree and plucked a mushroom from the ground next to him. “I want to know what we did together one hundred years ago.”</p><p>Zelda gulped, bent down to pick up a mushroom, and then began.</p><p>“There was a day where I had some time away from my prayer duties, so I took you out into the field with me, mostly because I had to. Looking back, I did enjoy my time with you, even if it felt like an obligation. We were in one of the fields to the northwest of the castle and I was searching around in the grass when I found a Silent Princess. I suppose you don’t remember, so I’ll tell you now: it’s my favorite flower. While I was searching, I found a frog, and for some reason I thought it would be the perfect specimen for an experiment. I told you to eat it and, Hylia above, you did.”</p><p>“Was it good?”</p><p>“Well, you swallowed, so I guess so.</p><p>“Another time, we were at the Spring of Power. I was to spend the night there praying to the Goddess Hylia in the hopes of awakening my power. That didn’t happen. Instead, when I grew frustrated, you turned to comfort me. You let me talk, and you just listened, like right now. You didn’t even do anything and I found it comforting, which is embarrassing to admit. After that, you convinced me that we should go back to the castle so I could sleep.</p><p>“I remember I travelled by myself one day to the Ancient Columns near Rito Village to investigate a shrine. It was so frustrating, not being able to get inside. It refused to open, even when I pressed the Sheikah Slate against the terminal. Then you showed up, and I got so angry at you that I yelled. I took out a lot of my frustration on you. I knew you were just following orders, so I guess it was silly to get upset.</p><p>“There was a second time where I left the castle alone. I was heading to Gerudo Town to see Urbosa, where I knew you wouldn’t be able to get to me because of the laws. I was adamant on avoiding you. You were a walking reminder of my own failures, if I’m being honest. Sorry. You’re not anymore, but that’s how I felt back then. As I was walking in the desert, I was overcome by some Yiga Clansmen, and they were about to kill me when you showed up out of seemingly nowhere. You saved me, and it was also the first time you said anything to me. You asked if I was okay. I was too shaken, and far too smitten by your heroism, to answer.”</p><p>“I’m flattered.”</p><p>“Of course you are.</p><p>“We walked along Lake Kolomo once, and I was rambling to you about Divine Beast Vah Rudania. In case you don’t remember, I was fascinated by ancient Sheikah technology. I still am, I think. But then I stopped walking, and I asked you if you could hear the voice inside the sword yet. There was a time where I could, but I can’t anymore. My power dwindled during those one hundred years I spent in the malice, and I’m not angry about it.</p><p>“The day the Calamity struck, we ran through a forest while it rained and while our friends died. I stopped you, collapsed on the ground, and I told you that I let them die. It was all my fault. I cried in your arms. I never cried, I’d never felt something so intensely that before. And then you helped me get back up and we kept running, running away from our duties and our responsibilities. Eventually, we got caught by a Guardian. Its laser was poised to shoot your forehead but I… my powers awoke and disabled the Guardian, but it was too late. I held you in my arms as you took what should’ve been your last breath.</p><p>“Do you remember any of these?”</p><p>“Vaguely.”</p><p>“Do you remember the Champions?”</p><p>“Also vaguely.”</p><p>“Do you have any clear memories?”</p><p>“One.”</p><p>“Tell me.”</p><p>“You appeared before me in front of Hyrule Castle, and we had just defeated Calamity Ganon. You asked me if I remembered you, and I lied.”</p><p>Zelda pulled a mushroom out of the ground. “Why?”</p><p>Link took a bite out of the mushroom he was holding. “I thought that if I said no then you would think none of it mattered.”</p><p>She frowned. “I suppose I would’ve.”</p><p>“I knew the memories were there. I went to all the places I was told, I tried and tried and tried and nothing ever came back to me but blurs.”</p><p>“I can’t be mad at you,” she said. “You tried.”</p><p>“I did.” He stood up. “But I understand why you’re mad.”</p><p>“You lied to me.” Zelda sighed. “Link, I’m sorry. I just got so upset and I—”</p><p>“It’s fine.”</p><p>“No, I feel like I’m repeating one hundred years ago where I let my frustrations get the better of me.”</p><p>“You can’t just keep it bottled up.”</p><p>With a bundle of mushrooms in her hands, she waddled up to Link. “I forgive you.”</p><p>He blinked at her and raised a brow in confusion.</p><p>“After that night, when you told me… I just felt so weird. Lost, angry, confused. I didn’t know how to process what you were telling me, so I just left. And I forgive you, because I’ve realized that you’re too important to me to lose. One hundred years ago doesn’t matter anymore, because we’re here now.”</p><p>He stared at her.</p><p>“Can you help me carry these?” she asked.</p><p>“Oh, uh, yeah.” He took some mushrooms into his hand and they walked back to Hateno Village.</p><p>Together.</p><p>——</p><p>He met her at sunset on the cliffside by their house where she sat, gazing out at the tower in the distance. She glanced behind her when she heard the sound of grass under his feet.</p><p>“Hey,” she said.</p><p>He settled down beside her on the grass. “Hi.” He looked at her instead of the sunset. “Will you tell me more stories?”</p><p>She shrugged. “I think I’m all out of them for today.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>She played with the hem of her dress and bit her lip nervously. “Do you remember when I asked you what it’s like to forget?”</p><p>He nodded. “I told you it feels like nothing.”</p><p>“I suppose I’ve been lying to you, too.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“In truth, the memories I’ve told you are some of the few I’ve held onto over the past one hundred years. They’re the precious ones that I couldn’t bear to lose. Being in a bubble like that for such a long time, you start to forget things. I forgot what a breeze felt like, how the sun felt, how grass felt, what apples taste like, how water tastes, what it feels like to be loved.”</p><p>She subtly scooted closer to him.</p><p>“The one thing I never forgot was hope. I never gave up hope that you would wake up and save me— Hyrule. Save Hyrule.”</p><p>He looked out at the sunset. “Princess… no, Zelda, I spent a lot of time trying to remember. Sometimes, I’d try so hard that I’d pass out from the pain.” He said her name and her heart fluttered.</p><p>“I used to pass out from praying in the springs.”</p><p>“I lied more than once. Forgetting doesn’t feel like nothing. Once you realize you’ve forgotten, it hurts.”</p><p>“How so?”</p><p>“You know the memories are there. You know you’re supposed to have them, but you just can’t remember, and you can’t do anything about it.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>Link sighed. He held his hand out to the setting sun and made a fist. “There’s nothing I can do. You’re lucky. You have some memories.”</p><p>“I cherish them.”</p><p>“I would be mad if you didn’t,” he teased with a smirk.</p><p>Zelda tilted her head and closed her eyes.</p><p>“It’s not all bad, though.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“I don’t feel like I was really there one hundred years ago. It feels like it was a completely different life.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“So, let’s make new memories. Ones we can remember and look back on together. The only thing that matters is us right now, not us one hundred years ago. And, slowly, we can know each other again.”</p><p>He set his hands out on the grass and leaned back a little, basking in the golden sunlight. The gentle breeze ruffled his hair and he inhaled the deep scent of grass and flowers. When he looked at her, she was glowing.</p><p>“We can make a new life together,” he said, realizing what she truly meant. She smiled.</p><p>“So let’s start simple.”</p><p>“Alright.”</p><p>She placed her hand atop his. “What’s your favorite color?”</p>
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